


Horizon

by Momiji_Dysprosium



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Rigel Black Series - murkybluematter, inspired by Rigel Black Chronicles
Genre: Action/Adventure, After Book 4 Futile Facade, Banter, Beware of spoilers, Caelum is his own warning, Caelum's POV, Caelum's potty mouth, F/M, Gen, Green Eyes, I'm bad at geography, Inspired by The Rigel Black Chronicles, Not Beta Read, Potion internship in the middle of the Rainforest, Team Caelum Harry, Tension, When is this even happening? I don't know, murkybluematter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-19
Updated: 2021-02-19
Packaged: 2021-03-17 14:07:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,312
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29226732
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Momiji_Dysprosium/pseuds/Momiji_Dysprosium
Summary: "And who are you?" hissed the snotty mudblood."Harry Potter."There was a few seconds of silence, before Caelum's head nearly snapped as he turned around to see the brat - her voice was too different from what he was used to. Short dark unruly curls, vivid eyes more poisonous than Essence of basilisk scales - It truly was her, though Caelum as he felt excitement rush through his veins.Fucking finally, the world was turning again, this internship was becoming more interesting, and what was she going to do this time?
Relationships: Caelum Lestrange/Harriet Potter | Rigel Black
Comments: 20
Kudos: 70





	Horizon

**Author's Note:**

  * For [All the Caerry-shippers](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=All+the+Caerry-shippers).



> Fanfiction after Book 4 Futile Facade, please be careful, there are some spoilers.  
> So, this was supposed to be for the RBC Masquerade 2021, but Caelum protested against the 2000 words limit. I also don't have any patience, so I'm posting this un-betaed.  
> Will you learn anything useful in this story? Nope!  
> Have a nice reading!

His teeth gritted against each other as his jaw tightened further, his trembling hands were clenched. He was barely keeping himself from killing the mudblood. 

"—born with a silver spoon in your dainty mou—" 

What did he know?

Caelum spent his life living with Bellatrix Lestrange for a mother, what did that _pathetic excuse of a squib_ even know about hardship? Caelum had carved his own path, and perhaps, having connections had eased him to find his way, but he knew that it was his ambition, his skills, his _determination_ that helped him raze through every obstacle. 

He knew he was one of the best, this small internship was a waste of his skills, that whining son of bitch wouldn't know the difference between a Mandragora leaf and Freya's tongue, and that, only if he could afford the second one! Master Whitaker had been wrong, there was nothing for him to learn with those losers. Still, Caelum had to restrain himself—

"—cause we discovered the world at elev—" 

That whining mudblood was asking for it! 

"Would you _please_ quiet it down?" 

The Lestrange heir had to blink, those words hadn't come out of his mouth. He did have more decorum than any of his… _Future colleagues,_ but he’d never apologize to filth _._ Why would he use politeness for people beneath him? He nearly sneered at the thought, as if they'll even manage to become _something_.

"And who are you?" hissed the snotty mudblood.

"Harry Potter."

There was a few seconds of silence, before Caelum's head nearly snapped as he turned around to see the brat — her voice was too different from what he was used to. Short dark unruly curls, vivid eyes more poisonous than Essence of basilisk scales — It truly was her, though Caelum as he felt excitement rush through his veins. 

Fucking finally, the world was turning again, this internship was becoming more interesting, and what was _she_ going to do this time?

Then he remembered their last conversation, and all he wanted was to squash his own heart, his own soul for feeling anything at all. 

"Harry Potter? The _Harry Potter?!_ The one who invented shape-imbuing?" asked the mudblood, his mouth wide open. His watery blue eyes were watching Potter as if she was _Snape._

He sneered at the pathetic sucker. At least Potter was better than any of them, even if the girl had thrown their relat— _him_ two months ago (one month, twenty-three days, and a few hours). The brat raised a dainty eyebrow, her lips still downturned. Though she did give him a nod in greetings, her eyes didn't meet his.

"You're a girl?!" continued the pathetic larva, showing that reading the newspaper was too hard for him — _everyone_ and their mothers know that Heir Black took Heiress Potter's place at that American school. — Caelum saw something dangerous flash through the girl's too green eyes, the hair on his neck nearly rose. 

"Woah, that's wicked." muttered another mudblood with stars in his eyes. 

Caelum nearly threw up when he realized that _all_ of them, the mudbloods, and half-bloods, looked at Potter as if she was Mother Magic herself. Strangely enough, it was not the other Purebloods who looked as uncomfortable as Caelum felt, oh no, their eyes were also focused on her, they all seemed _interested in_ Potter. It was no secret that Potion masters — true ones — rarely found a woman who could understand their art, one of the reasons why many of them ended up with a healer. The Lestrange heir felt sick at the way they looked at Potter, he wanted to crush their pathetic hearts in his hands - no decorum from any of them - and shockingly enough the two other purebloods were as bad as the _filth._

It was the brat herself who looked at Caelum —finally —and asking with her eyes if what was happening was really happening. Caelum could only grimace in confirmation. Then, both remembered that they weren't close anymore, and he avoided her eyes quickly. It was okay, he didn't want her _friendship._

Potter ignored the mudblood, her vivid eyes sharply looked at the others, her voice was full of disbelief as she asked, "So, none of you want to work with Lestrange because _his parents_ are blood supremacists ?!" 

He grimaced, why did she always have to stick up her nose in everything? 

A half-troll answered bravely, "Er, more like he _is_ a blood supremacist. Everyone knows what Lestranges can do." 

Caelum nearly sighed, sure he couldn't stand their filthiness, but as long as they stayed away from him, he didn't care. 

"But we're all future potioneers, we should work together — at least during this internship — we could learn so many techniques! Cooperation is the key to evolution, it’s similar to our favored art, each of us is a unique ingredient that could create a new potion!" passionately declared Potter, and Caelum realized that the crazed look in her eyes was similar to his, when his parents forbade him to _play potioneer_ when he could be learning the art of dueling. 

Sadly, no one seemed to have Potter's passion for potion-making. Heck, Caelum barely managed to hide a cringe when she'd poured out her emotions in the open for everyone to hear, but he'd admit, only in front of the devil, that Potter's dedication was… admirable. Too bad it was lost on those pretentious potion _amateurs._

"Frederickson, you wanna be my project partner?" asked one of the freckled mudblood. A boy with dorky glasses worse than Potter’s nodded his head. 

They all started whispering between themselves.

Had Caelum been alone, he'd have kept his head up and ignored those pathetic worms. However, Potter's angered face was too interesting to be left unseen, he wanted to see if she could shift to purple, or if her vivid eyes would launch killing curses on the mudbloods.

"Er, Potter, you want to pair up with me?" asked the blushing mudblood whose descendant will be cursed before the end of this farce of an internship by Caelum. 

Potter looked at the dunderhead with a delicately raised eyebrow — oh, that’s what was different with the brat, finally, she had started to take care of those!— "I already have a partner." said Potter with a small smirk. 

"You do?" cut Caelum before the snotty-one started his second round of woes. His eyes assessed the _amateurs_ , searching for someone who'd manage to catch Potter's attention. 

"I'm the best you will find here!" quickly said an idiot. 

Potter nearly choked as she bit her lips to keep herself from giggling; Caelum wasn't as kind as to let people live in their delusion, he laughed out loudly. 

The first mudblood rolled his eyes, "Right, if you're the best I'll eat my shoes. So Potter, you and me?" 

"Actually," started Potter as she glided toward them. "He's my partner." said the brat, her thumbs pointing to her side — at _Caelum_. He nearly opened his mouth to protest, but then he remembered that despite their… dispute, Potter, at least, has skills, unlike those idiots. 

"Let's go to the classroom Potter, we've got a recipe to choose." He turned around and walked back to their temporary classroom, he knew she'd follow him, he'd had her at the word 'recipe'. The smirk on his lips stayed for a whole hour when he heard her soft footsteps following him.

* * *

The research phase went by too quickly, they only had four hours; though ' _the brave and ambitious could stay two more hours_ ' had said Master Carlisle. The Lestrange heir sneered when he saw three pairs leave barely after three hours. 

"Fools." had muttered Potter. 

Theirs was the only wise group to stay the whole six hours to get the theory right. Between Potter's ingenious way of marking down what was important, and his ability to sum up and translate Cyrillic, Greek, and German, they managed to go at a quick and steady pace. A small part in Caelum would admit, only under the cruciatus curse, that something was missing in their interactions. Before, silence hadn't felt so awkward, before, Potter wouldn't have frozen when his shoulder brushed her arm. No one but them could feel that something was different between them. 

Caelum wasn't one to apologize, but this time he hadn't done anything wrong — he was the same as always, it was Potter who had changed. Potter, who suddenly shed her impassive mask, was the one who got angry because he was being his usual perfect self. Perhaps the girl had been under pressure but never had he seen her behave so… immaturely.

A part of him was curious, he wanted to know why she'd changed? What had Black done to her? What had the usurper done to her? Was her family treating her well? But Caelum was stubborn, why would he start to care for Potter? She was impure— _but did it still mean something? —_ she was a brat — _but she had already broken-through the potion community—_ she would bring nothing to the Lestrange name — _so why did he miss bantering with her?_ Why did he mi—

"I think we're done." interrupted the brat, her eyes critically analyzing their small but thick dossier. 

"Have you finished the appendix?" quickly threw Caelum. 

Potter cocked her head to the side, her vivid glance cutting in his soul. "Of course, and the map of ingredients is also ready. We only need to prepare our bags, and I reckon we can go." 

He grunted, "Let's meet here in thirty minutes." 

"Thirty minutes?" repeated a startled Potter before glancing down at her list. 

He sneered, "Why need more time to pack, Potter?" 

It was with a smirk that she answered in an annoying high voice, "Oh no, I was worried about you Caelum, those locks seem a bit messed-up” His hand tightened his silky ribbon, and he glared at _her_ mass of curls barely tamed by a poor hairband “ I'll be down in twenty minutes." 

"I'll be finished in fifteen, do you need girly time Potter?" snarked back Caelum. Potter only smirked as if she knew he'd fail. Caelum got up and left, "Don't be late Potter." 

Fifteen minutes later, and here he was, waiting in front of the gates for _Potter_.

Of course, she'd be late, the annoying chit. If there was one thing Lestrange hated as much as incompetence it was lateness. Three minutes after, Potter walked toward him at a calm pace, she wore some kind of _muggle_ pants, with two pouches attached to them, a tank top, and an open jacket. A weird round necklace was around her neck, her wild locks were put in a sensible ponytail, though a wild lock was trying to escape said ponytail. 

What really surprised him was— "Are those Figaro's Model 2300, Potter?" the dark red boots nearly sparkled as he gazed at the quality.

Potter looked surprised that he recognized the brand. Why he didn't know, every potioneer knows that Figaro made the best boots in magical Europe. At least her taste in equipment was sound, thought Caelum, as he judged her tank top, which he was one hundred percent sure was _muggle-made._

"Yeah, they were a gift." answered the girl after a moment of silence. 

He didn't know how to continue the conversation, he may have learned etiquette and how to speak with the right crowd, but Caelum didn't care much for those. What was the point of playing another stuck-up heir when there were hundreds of them? He preferred to be rude to their face knowing that with him being on a higher place in the hierarchy, nobody would dare to say what they thought of him to his face. Cowards, the lot of them. 

However, conversing with Potter required a whole new level of skills. She was different, a half-blood with knowledge, with skills, with a _personality._

"Shall we go?" asked the brat. 

Caelum started to walk and criticize her time management skills. "I see that fifteen minutes is hard to understand for your brain Potter. Perhaps I'll give you a watch for Yule."

She followed him but not before rolling her eyes, "I never agreed to fifteen minutes Lestrange, perhaps _I'll_ give you a sharpening potion for Christmas." 

Nicely played Potter, thought Caelum. The brat managed to make a comeback and insult his potion skills. This was what made Potter better than three-quarters of Britain. 

* * *

The first day was composed mostly of walking and mosquitoes, after the tenth one, Caelum had snapped. He forced Potter to stop so they could make a small repellent, that’s when he learned that the brat knew a spell, _courtesy of Black_ , against said bloodsucker. His pride had to be swallowed when the eleventh mosquito had come and drunk Caelum’s _pure_ blood, before leaving soundly as if it was a drunk. He bore through Potter’s smirking face when she’d put the specific repelling charm on him, at least he was safe from those insects — worse than vampires the lot of them.

Their first day had been productive, three ingredients already found, and he taught Potter how to brew in the wild — she’d been pretty impressed when he showed her what he learned with Master Whitaker. Normally such methods were commonly used when a potioneer was lost in the wild; from how to make the perfect fire, to where rocks should be positioned for optimum results. Her hungry eyes were fixed on the way he snapped the rocks against each other to make fire. “That’s a muggle method!”

He’d glared, “No, it’s from a famed potioneer.” No way he’d reveal it was from a half-blood potioneer, known to have created many potions in the middle of Himalaya. He was surprised she didn't know that. 

The night with brilliant stars was a worthy award for their first day, said Potter. The fire’s reflection highlighting her eyes even in the dark. He assessed their value, if she’d die, he’d use her eyes in a potion, she’d understood, and “Say, Potter, what kind of experiment did you fail to make your eyes so green?” blurted out Caelum — tiredness must have gotten to him.

It seemed to break the tension as Potter laughed out too loudly for such a calm night. 

"Shhh! Potter are you mad? Don't answer that, it was rhetorical. Your laugh will attract dangerous creatures!" 

Their first time camping in the unknown jungle in the middle of America went well, both were also intelligent enough to avoid their _last_ conversation, though he would get an apology from the girl before the end of this internship — after winning this little _friendly_ competition with incompetent amateurs.

* * *

It was official, day two was horrible, thought Caelum as he felt his dragon-skinned boots met their end against the insane amount of mud. As if agreeing with him, Potter sighed heavily as she put her humid rebelling lock behind her ear. 

"Remind me how many hours do we have until the next spot?" grumbled the Lestrange heir. 

He could feel her pained expression as she muttered "two more hours". 

"Fuck it. Potter get your broom. We're flying." 

Sensible women would have protested his order, but Potter belonged to the same brand of insane as him. They flew through the rain, Potter's glasses nearly fell from her face, though she'd caught them before they'd met their end. Of course, he had commented on her dreary eyesight and recommended her a famed eye surgeon. The girl had snorted before she teased him by grabbing the end of his broom — a foolish prank.

Caelum couldn't remember a time when he'd felt as free as now, lost in the middle of the rainforest.

They'd found a cave, and changed clothes. His ears went red when Potter started to undress before him. Then he felt red with anger when she told him. "We do it all the time with Archie, sorry." The urge to curse Black was thundering in his veins. 

"Caelum, get closer to the fire, it'll warm you up in no time." earnestly said Potter. 

He rolled his eyes, "That's what warming charms are used for, brat." Though he got closer to the fire. 

After a moment of silence where the only sound was the churning fire and the pounding rain, Potter's soft voice confessed "I missed this." 

His mouth opened before he could think, "what living in a cave, not unlike your muggle ancestors?" he winced. 

Potter let out a weak laugh which he hated. "And then, you say things like that." 

"It never bothered you before." grumbled Caelum. 

She sighed such a deep long sigh, he couldn't understand her. Potter was the one who labeled their whatever-it-is as a _friendship_. If one was to count their interactions, it barely raised to a month. Wasn't she the one who approached him first? He had never asked for her pity. But she'd entered his space like the weed she was, and he'd found that the weed had more things in common with him than other purebloods. 

"I was in a bad mood." Here she straightened up, her eyes hardening. "I'm sorry I lost my composure on you. Looking back at our conversation, I realized that I… _perceived_ your usual behavior differently from how I habitually react." 

"So, you lived in a lie and I was your scapegoat." concluded Caelum with a sneer. 

"No." strongly said Potter. "I had many questions after what happened with the tournament and—" 

"Why? It didn't concern you. And how the fuck did you know about the Liberspirare?" 

At this point he didn't care if she was angry about that, nobody would have predicted what had happened. And perhaps, Caelum was as guilty as she believed, but _his hands_ were more important to him than Rigel fucking Black, he needed them for his chosen path. As Bellatrix's son, he _knew_ what type of damage the Cruciatus could do to one's nerves, heck, he'd written his seventh-year paper on that for his dark art class. 

Potter's eyes glinted dangerously at his confession, and he didn't know why she didn't interrogate him more than that. But Caelum didn't care, something fishy was going on here, and he wondered if he wanted Potter to tell him the truth. "Of course, it concerned me! My family could be in danger because of our friendship." 

"It was your choice, you could have avoided me. You were the one who foolishly followed me!" 

Potter's silence was dangerous. Caelum had never thought he was bad at communication, but Potter seemed to teach him things even about himself. He winced at the thought, should he—

" _Teaching you was a mistake_." quoted Caelum. 

He was a new kind of bastard, thought the Lestrange heir as Potter's expression fell. The happiness devoured from her being as if Caelum was a dementor. Perhaps, thought the young man, it was for the best. From echoes, he'd heard from his acquaintances, and his own family, he knew what was to come. The world was at the tip of the scale, and the Black-imposter had changed too many things in favor of the _wrong_ side. Potter and he could never be close. One of them was bound to die, fighting for a side they were obliged to choose — he'd always known that Harriet Potter was too… good for this world.

* * *

"Oh for Merlin's sake! I forgive you Potter!" Shouted Caelum. 

Truthfully, Caelum was impressed that Potter and he could communicate silently. However, two hours after watching Potter drowning in her guilt, her eyes a little red - though the girl blamed allergies — Caelum couldn't stand to see the energic sarcastic brat reduced to such a _fragile girl._

This was so unlike Potter, he'd suspect she was manipulating him. That hypothesis couldn't work, because, in the end, Potter was as light as they come! She was so pure and open with everyone, it was sickening to watch! 

"Huh?" 

"Where did my intelligent brat go?" grumbled Caelum, tired of her obviousness. 

Potter's face was incredulous, "your brat? Oh sorry Lestrange, didn't know you were my father's age. Should I call you mister Lestrange?" playfully (and finally) said Potter. 

Caelum snorted at the familiar banter, "Please Potter, you can call me Master." 

Her eyes twinkled before she _did_ something with her face. Her eyes were looking at him with such a sweet expression, he nearly tripped on a root. Her lips trembled delicately, "Oh my, I didn't know you could be so scandalous, _Caelum_."

This time he gaped, Potter’s behavior was always tainted with such uncouth etiquette — she grew up with Potter Senior and Lord Stupid Black — however, never would he have thought the girl would dare think such a thing from him. He opened his mouth to retort when suddenly a sharp sound resonated, and pain took over his arm. He hissed and saw an arrow. He barely managed to look up to Potter, before the girl pulled his working arm and ran. 

“What—”

“We’re being attacked.” hissed the girl. “Keep running, and run in zigzag.”

“Wh—”

“Now’s not the moment to protest, move Caelum.” harshly continued the girl. She took out her wand and launched a fucking _depasco_ shield, which she maintained while running and— “And please, don’t move that arrow until we’re safe.”

He gritted his teeth and followed her order, his arm was hurting, but he could feel some kind of numbness. “Poison.” hissed Caelum, recognizing the texture coating the arrow and tainting _his_ blood. This information didn’t make Potter scold him like he was a child, instead, he saw her expression go livid. Someone is going down, and it wasn’t them.

“You know Potter, I learned one thing from my mother.” Potter’s worried eyes inquizingly looked at him, “the best defense is attack.” Something sparkled in Potter’s eyes. 

“I know a shield powerful enough to keep up while I heal you.” said Potter.

He retained himself from making a sarcastic comment, “Well I am an expert when it comes to offensive spells.”

They shared an evil grin — the enemy won’t be ready for what was to come. Caelum started lightly, the best defense could be the best offense, and perhaps a part of him wanted to show off.

“ _Protego Diabolica_ .” Blue fire sprouted in a circle around them. “ _Alarte ascendare_ .” He focused on the ascending flames and combined it with a nice _incedio tria_ , projecting them where the enemy was hiding.

At their screams, he recognized the gang of mudbloods, of course, they’d be jealous of his and Potter’s work and tried to sabotage them.

“Wait, Caelum, I think they’re our comrades.”

He cast an incredulous look in the direction of Potter, and _Депульсо_ against his enemy. “Potter, they’re attacking us.”

She hesitated a few seconds, before casting a wandless Sonorus. “It is us, Harry Potter and Ca— Lestrange! We’re not your enemies!” said Potter as her hand still clenched tightly on her wand, he knew she wasn’t as comfortable as she tried to appear, Caelum reinforced his control on the fire.

The mudbloods were silent for a few seconds, “Potter we’re letting you thirty seconds to escape.”

Caelum grimaced, he knew it. “Go.” hissed the Lestrange. But Potter ignored him.

“What about Caelum? He didn’t do anything to you!” exclaimed Potter, her feet positioned in a strange way bouncing up and down — like an Auror, remembered Caelum.

“What about him? You’ve got twenty-five seconds!” shouted back one of them.

“Potter—”

“I’m not leaving you here.” coldly stated Potter, her eyes dangerously alight, the blue fire of his spell only enhancing their sharpness.

He rolled his eyes, “you’ll be more useful outside than inside.” Such a noble idiot.

Potter arrogantly cocked her eyes, raising a delicate eyebrow. She didn’t even answer Caelum. Instead, the brat shouted out, “So be it. I’m giving _you all_ ten seconds to flee.”

“Charge!” shouted a mudblood, forgetting to count. His teammate, the pureblood, nearly met his _protego diabolica,_ before a mudblood _accioed_ the idiot.

“Are you mad? This spell can kill you! It’s Grindelwald’s spell.” explained the snotty mudblood.

Caelum scoffed, it wasn’t _Grindelwald_ who’d invented the spell, the man learned it in Durmstrang, like every proper dark wizard. 

“Caelum.” muttered Potter, her eyes fleeting to their left — a path which would lengthen their travel. He grunted in agreement, they were in advance according to their schedule, this shouldn't make them lose. The Lestrange Heir pointed his wand toward the nitwits. “Don’t hurt them too much.” finished Potter, who despite her urge to protect themselves, didn’t want to hurt the others.

They launched spells, which were met against weak shields. Potter and he took advantage and ran toward the unknown path, the blood traitors following them.

Strangely enough, Caelum let out a laugh — maybe the poison was getting to him — this was thrilling, he wasn’t bored anymore. He should have known that when Potter entered this place, his own world had been tipped from its axis, and was orbiting around her insane life.

“This is no laughing matter.” scolded Potter, but he could see her lips twitching, and her eyes— Merlin, her eyes, they had never looked so alive. It was even more spectacular than when she was doing Potion. 

They avoided a stunning spell, “Still, I can’t understand what they have against you?” He didn’t know, as always his beauty had attracted their lesser selves, they tried to make small (and pitiful) conversations with him — as if he’d respect their pathetic attempt at groveling! “Did you do something?” asked Potter, as she turned and fired an _expelliarmus_ , too bad, it caught a fucking _toucan_.

His answering shrug was met with a whimper, “So you were being your usual se—” Potter gaped, “Salazar, Lestrange! Look ahead.” 

“What do you think I’m doing, brat?!” snapped Lestrange, before conjuring a simple _avis_ to block the mudbloods; they must have drunk a Felix Felicis to avoid what Caelum threw at them.

“No, Caelum look!” said Potter as she pointed to a fucking tree, which was too far from them. “We’re near a cliff, and—”

“What?! Shit, we’ll have to turn right or left.”

“No, I have an idea. If we continue to run, they’ll never stop following us, and we’ll be late on our schedule. Even if this adventure is fun, I will be happier behind our lab, brewing our potion.” sensibly said Potter. Her hand went to her pouch and she tossed a strange unknown potion to Caelum, who barely managed to catch it and keep his wand.

“Wait, you’re not going to explain?” asked Caelum, feeling the need to know what was going to happen even if his legs were burning from running, and his arm was poisoned. Potter’s dangerous smirk should make him more afraid, but at this point, he’d like to take a break — not that he’d admit that to Potter.

They arrived at the cliff, and he harshly breathed the fresh air. The wind was blowing their curls, “So what now?” asked Caelum.

“Give me your hurt arm.” ordered Potter, he rolled his eyes but obeyed, he couldn’t feel anything, and the girl seemed to know some healing spell—

“Potter! Damn Liams, look they’re holding hands.” snarked a mudblood.

If they hadn’t caught Potter and him, he’d have interrogated Potter. This was not the time to _hold_ hands!

“Are you really going to attack us, when we all have ingredients to find to make _potion._ ” said the stubborn girl, her eyes judging them. “Drink it.” whispered Potter. The wind blew hard on their face, slapping him to act. Damn it all, he can’t believe how annoying mudbloods could be. They were six against two, of course, Potter and he were better than them, but as the brat said, they had better things to do, like brew. Searching for insane ingredients wasn’t something he liked to do, Caelum considered them a task, and he’d prefer buying them than going on foolish adventures in the fucking rainforest.

He opened the potion and drank it fully. He felt light, and now he understood why Potter was holding him, “What did you drink?!” shouted the one named Lame.

“It’s the Potter’s Protection Potion!” answered the mudblood, who had also identified his spell as Grindelwald’s.

“It’s named Potter’s Portable Protection Potion. At least get it right before spouting out your bullshit!” hissed Lestrange, as he tried to move and fight against the sudden weightlessness he was feeling, his hand tightly clenched Potter’s small and calloused one. “Do something!” muttered angrily Lestrange.

“I already did.” said Potter, a smirk dancing on her lips.

“We’ve got you! You’re going to die, Lestrange! Potter, you can still move.”

Potter smiled brightly, the wind stole her hairband, her curls flew happily and insanely around her head. It reminded him of his mother in the morning, which wasn’t a positive thought one should have in the face of death by mudbloods. “Whatever, let’s attack. Stupefy!” launched their enemy, but Potter remained unmoving, and he could only watch uselessly the attack met— a shimmering red-colored ward, this was _not_ a shield!

“Well, we’ll be leaving now. I hope you know the way back.” let out Potter, and he gaped when she shifted into a raven. His eyes went to his hand caught in her heels.

“Wait, Poooootttterrr!” shouted Lestrange as she took off from the cliff, they were flying above a fucking river, the mudbloods gaped. Caelum’s feet were dangling in the open air, he was hanging on a fucking raven for his life.

Potter’s stunt lasted five long fucking minutes, during which he’d cursed out loud, Potter’s scandalizing caw made him let out a few hysterical _giggles_. She’d turn him as mad as his mother before the end of this internship; next time, he’ll answer ‘hell no’ to Master Whitaker, this was too much bullshit even for a Lestrange!

They finally arrived on the ground, and he had to retain himself for kissing it. Instead, he gulped down Potter’s counter potion, and sat down on a bark, next to Potter who had the map of Ingredients.

“Right. I think we can go for Ingredient eight and above, and we’ll take care of the snake vine and poison dart frogs on the path back to the camp. But first, let me look at your arm ” finished Potter. Her worried eyes on the arrow.

His face paled. “Potter, I think it’s Azureus poison. The Lame guy took the same book as us during the research phase.”

Potter repeated “Lame guy? You mean Liam?”

“Potter, is his name that important when I could be losing _my arm?!_ ” Shouted Caelum. Potter went back to his arm, sometimes muttering questions to herself, crazy girl, in the end, she took out her potion kit and started healing him. He thanked mother magic that Potter was as serious as him when it came to potions, unlike the baboons they left at the cliff.

She bandaged his arm tightly, and he hissed, but her sharp glance shut him up. “Your eyes are too weird Potter.” commented Caelum.

She rolled them again, “Whatever, let’s camp here tonight. I’ll start on the ward—”

“Speaking of which, I’ve never seen such a shimmering red ward Potter. It looked potent, what was it?” interrogate Lestrange, he had a terrible idea, but no way would a light witch—

“It was a blood ward.” answered Potter, her face as serious as always, “Don’t forget I _know_ what you have in your potion cupboard, Lestrange.”

He scoffed, “I’m not blackmailing you Potter.” He got up and took his wand, blood wards were borderline dark magic, heck, according to their ministry it was. “Though it is dangerous.”

“Our laws only apply in our Isle, not in the middle of Central America.” sassed Potter, “and where are you going now? I told you to—”

“Stop ordering me around, Potter.” hissed Caelum, his jaw tightly clenched. “Blood wards are magic costly, go install the tent or something. I’ll take care of the protective spells tonight.”

“But, I thought you didn’t know any.” asked Potter, as she lost this round.

“I thought you would frown against _dark magic_.” Of course, she’d blame him for thinking of her sensibility. 

“Oh. Magic is magic, as long as you don’t hurt people” then she added, “ as long as they don’t attack you, that is.”

He liked her addition and smirked before focusing on his word. His arm was starting to itch, but at least he could feel it again and move it. Today had been tiring, only two days to go.

He drank the sad canned soup she gave him for dinner, his eyes focused on the fire warming him up. Potter was not unlike it, thought Caelum, she would burn to keep her people safe, she'd destroy her enemies, she could be warm and her intelligence attracted many; but she was dangerous and would scorch anyone who’d get too close.

The girl seemed to live inside a storm of drama, he still didn’t understand why she would help the impostor, at least Potter was loyal enough to help her… cousin, who wasn’t as closely related to her, as he was to Caelum and Draco. The Lestrange heir sneered at the thought of _Black,_ he seemed to have lucked out, hadn’t he? He was born with a silver spoon in his mouth and lived in a world with rainbows and unicorns. He was lucky to have grown with Potter, poor Draco had spent his childhoods followed by Crabbe and Goyle — those two could decrease one’s intelligence. Compared to Aunt Narcissa’s child, Caelum was thankful to have spent his childhood between the silence of the library and the comforting scent of his lab.

“Were you able to work on some projects, Potter?” asked Caelum, his gaze still focused on the orange-hued fire, the remedy was making him feel weird or he’d never do _small talks._

Potter blinked in confusion, not used to him initiating the conversation, “A little, though most of it was research.” answered the girl, with a sort of sad voice.

His eyes looked up, “Don’t tell me you were grounded, brat?”

Potter’s flushed face and the furrowing of her brows were an answer in themselves; Caelum laughed. This was priceless, here he was wondering what kind of Madness she’d create, or if she had found someone else to share her crazy ideas; but no, Potter got grounded like a child.

“Has anyone told you, you bear resemblance to a Hyena when you laugh?”

Caelum ignored her lies, instead, he did what he could _freely_ do in a forest with no one to report what he did to his mother. He pointed his finger at the red-cheeked brat and scoffed, “You got grounded like a toddler!” And her twisty face sent him in another fit of laughter. He didn’t even know if he was laughing because she got grounded, or just to see what new shade of red could appear on Potter’s cheeks — she was easier to tease than before, he’s going to have so much fu—

A wild hot wind pushed him from his bark, and he fell to the ground. “What the f—”

“Oh my! The rain must have got to you Caelum; I forgot that you could be so… fragile. Would you like a pepper-up potion?” asked Potter with her face tilted, a picture of innocence; but he knows, even if her eyes looked seriously worried, that she was the one who pushed him. She knew wandless magic, after all!

The smell of burning interrupted his musing, his poor coat caught the fire. Potter _wandlessly_ and _silently_ launched an overpowered Aguamenti, dousing him and the fire with water.

“Potter!”

“Sorry, with me being grounded and all, I seem to have forgotten how to control my powers.” lied the brat in the darkness of the night.

“Merlin, you annoying little—” the hair on his neck rose, shutting him up.

“You were saying something, Lestrange?” boldly questioned Potter.

Sudden tiredness came upon him, and Caelum focused back on his soup. The first thing he’ll do back home would be to eat in a respectable restaurant with cutlery. His musing was interrupted when he felt Potter’s hand brush his perfect forehead, “Go to sleep Caelum.” voiced softly Potter. He met her warm green gaze with an incredulous expression, was she mad? It was cold, and he wasn’t in a—

“Add 3 measures of fluxweed to the cauldron..” started the green-eyed minx, he felt drowsy and listened to her voice as he fell asleep.

* * *

Strangely enough, their last days in the wild went fine. On a positive thought, they managed to stay alive —a tiring thing, when a forest tries to kill you and mudbloods play villainous characters —and retrieve all the ingredients in their list. Of course, things went as smoothly as they could with Potter.

“Woah, look Lestrange, you have the same eye color as the blue poison dart frog!”

“Potter, you’re not one to comment on eyes. Mines are the color of ice, besides, you don’t know anything about blue eyes!”

“Yeah, yeah, they look like Glacia Aeternalis on fire.” Wait, what? “ And sure I do, dad and Addy also have blue eyes.”

“Addy?” repeated Caelum with a sneer. “Another one of—”

“Don’t you dare say anything about my sister.” dangerously hissed Potter.

Why was it that every time when he made progress with Potter, he had to move back from two steps? “Hopefully, she doesn’t inherit your eyesight.” muttered Caelum.

Potter sighed, “She looks a lot like my mom, so we’re hoping she inherits that from her.” shrugged Potter. 

Caelum couldn’t believe they were doing small talks. _Small talks._ His mother would end him if she’d learn about anything he did here. Perhaps, he should drink a forgetfulness potion at home, yesterday would cease to exist in his memory, it would be the prudent choice; what happened in the rainforest shall stay in the rainforest. Potter was unlike those pureblood chit trying to get fine heirs in trouble. The brat had more decorum and could manage to keep a secret.

The proof was flagrant enough in that whole masquerade story. Still, he can’t believe she gave her place to AIM to _Black,_ and the imposter went to Hogwarts.

If Potter and he had spoken that day, in Diagon alley, when she’d break their… whatever-it-was, he’d have told her—

“In your place, I would have gone to Hogwarts.” let out Caelum.

Potter froze.

“What? That’s where Snape teaches.” continued the Lestrange heir, with a scowl on his face.

“Say Lestrange, why didn’t _you_ go to Hogwarts?” asked Potter.

He sneered, “I’m not im—” he stopped, blood purity seemed to disturb Potter this year, for his health, it was better to not speak about such a _sensible_ topic with the brat - after all, she had the ingredients. “My parents thought it was better to focus on dueling and the dark arts — fields Durmstrang is known for.” So many emotions passed the girl’s face, and Caelum wanted to know what happened to his brat for her to be so open? She’d always be a little too eager when it came to The Art, but now, she had so many expressions, it felt like she was an imposter.

“I see.” finished awkwardly Potter.

He rolled his eyes, “look Potter, we’ve arrived at the camp, we can start brewing in an hour.” 

Potter’s eager face fell in a pout. “Why not now?”

Stupid girl, of course, she’d ask that “Potter, we need a nice fresh shower, and please don’t make strange jokes about sharing.” Potter’s scandalized expression made him blush; she was the one who changed, how should he know which joke to make or not? How was he going to— ah, right, “Besides, I told you we’ll start _brewing_ in an hour. You’ll join me in thirty minutes for prep.” And the sparkles were back in her eyes.

“Right, I’ll be quick.” said Potter before running toward the girl’s bathroom.

“Such a tiring little minx.” muttered Caelum, and his lips _weren’t_ drawn in a fond smile.

* * *

Perhaps, it was due to the fact he rarely brewed with people equally as good as him, but brewing with Potter was fucking _relaxing._ Master Whitaker had the tendency to order him around after ten minutes; Caelum still was his _apprentice,_ this meant that the young man couldn't complain. Other brewers around his age weren't that good, honestly, Potter was the only one equal to him (she was greater). 

Their adventure around the rainforest managed to cool down the tension around them, they were back to their bantering way, and he'd forget how _liberating_ it was to speak his mind to someone who listened. Potter's dark humor was brilliant and lost on light, vanilla people. There was something… Grey and open about Potter, that made him forget that she wasn't a pureblood. 

And here it was, his mind automatically jumped to blood. 

He winced; since when was he bothered about judging people for their blood? — His mind conjured _that_ angered and broken face.—Ah, he remembered, when the one he'd started to see as his _equal in their field_ , looked so out of it.

If there was something he would associate with Potter, it was _control_. The few times he'd met the girl, and through all her letters he'd read, he'd seen one pattern; Potter's control was up to a paranoid level. Every move she made while brewing was precise; it was quite the contrast to see her moves restrained, precise, calculated, and still see an ease on her shoulders, and her face expressing peace and happiness.

"Caelum! The roots." hissed Potter, her face scandalized that he'd made such an amateur move to see them fail. 

He rolled his eyes, and perfectly added the ingredient, "Relax Potter, _I_ know what I'm doing." 

"Whatever, get to it Lestrange, or I'm suing you for negligence." answered Potter, her tone joking but her eyes were serious. 

"What? And then you'll take custody of our Potion." teased Caelum in good humor. He knew they were already winning, not like the _others_ were up to their levels — they'd never be. 

Potter carefully added the bay leaf before turning up her nose, "It would brew with care and love, and through the hands of an expert."

"Right and blow up in your subpar lab." he twirled their potion, changing the cerulean blue to turquoise. 

Potter rolled her green eyes, "It serves its purpose." 

"I'd bet ten galleons, you _copied_ me and changed your floor." He smirked when her ears flared to pink, she was too easy to read sometimes.

"Oh my, now you've turned to gamble, Caelum? And here, I thought you wanted to be a potioneer…" he wanted to tear off her crooked smile from her face. "Well, you can bet on me to win this _friendly_ competition." 

"That's it Potter, after this troublesome internship is finished, we'll have a, how did you put it? Ah, a _friendly competition._ We'll see who's the best potioneer." 

Potter smiled lazily, her eyes dropping a little. "Oh, stop living in your delusion Lestrange. We both know who's the best." 

"Don't get cocky, Potter." 

She crossed her arms, "It could be a fine learning experience." 

"Aren't you still grounded?" spat Caelum. 

Her sharp eyes cut through his soul, "Are you afraid?" 

He smirked, "I'll teach you your place, brat." 

She grinned widely, "Prepare to kiss my feet, _Caelum._ " 

Ah, bantering with Potter, how he had missed the way she'd take his blunt words and make comebacks, no witches in the Isle had her guts. 

"Urgh, Lestrange and Potter are flirting." 

Potter and Caelum turned as one toward the coward who'd manage to escape Potter's trap —only because of her _kindness—_ "We're talking potions!" 

As if he'd flirt with the brat! "Let's end them, Potter." darkly said Caelum. 

Focusing back on their potions was as easy as breathing. They would end them eat the dirt from the path they took for success; this whole internship was for amateurs — he’d speak with Master Whitaker, how could that man think Caelum would lean something surrounded by, by dunderheads! If it wasn’t for Potter, he knew this place would have been hell on earth. He would prefer learning the tango with Regulus than brewing with the incompetents here. And it wasn’t even related to their blood purity! Look at Potter, she was born with—

“Caelum!”

“Harriet.”

Potter’s jaw dropped, and he focused back on their potion, shit was this disturbing him! Perhaps Potter didn’t heal him correctly yesterday, something with him was amiss.

* * *

“—incredible work. Shortening the potion step has been done by all of you, but implementing an ingredient, and deviating from the original recipe was ingenious. This, this is what we wanted to learn, no you even went above every expectation we had.” gushed Master Carlisle, as he assessed their Azur colored potion with hints of turquoise oily specks. “You said it reduces scarring?”

Potter nodded, standing proudly next to him, “That’s right, replacing the skin of darted blue frog by using only its drained poison, enabled us to improve the consistency. It’s Lestrange, here, who was inspired by potioneer Fritz Harber’s method.”

He rolled his eyes, as Master Carlisle’s eyes focused on him, “Don’t be modest Potter, you were the one who imbued a light Incedio, your control was excellent. And it was you who decided that steering counter-clockwise two times instead of three would keep the process even.”

Caelum smirked at the camera, the look of the losers around him would even it out. Potter’s scolding eyes nearly made him scold. Though their work wasn’t that much of a breakthrough — Potter’s imbuing technique had been world-changing — it had still improved the scar-remover potion. Their modified potion was painless on open wounds, and it would reduce the worst of scars in a few months, instead of a whole year. 

“Attention everyone, please give a round of applause to our winners — Mister Caelum Lestrange, and Miss Harriet Potter!” shouted out Master Carlisle. “Now, let’s enjoy a nice evening to end this internship. I thank everyone for coming, and I hope to see you next year.”

No way will he come back here, not until they do something about the lack of intelligence around. How could they pretend to be potioneer —or even interested by The Arts, when they didn’t take it seriously? “What the hell was I supposed to learn, I don’t know…” muttered Caelum to the smiling Potter.

“What do you mean? Lestrange, our file is at least fifty pages, and we’ve improved a healing potion.”

“And a scar-remover is also a beauty potion. Don’t forget that, brat.” he smirked when Potter’s face spasmed. They did argue at least one hour before choosing this one “I meant during this internship. Honestly Potter, why did you even come here if you weren’t forced?”

“To make potion.” answered Potter.

He groaned, one track mind this one. “Couldn’t you have gone to the guild? Or your lab?”

Potter avoided eye-contact, and then he realized something. “Please, brat, tell me again when did your punishment end?” Potter stayed silent, as the people around them started the bonfire, which lit the whole backyard. The stars silently watched them, “Brat?”

“Technically, I’m grounded until I go to school.” His eyes were wide open, wait where would she go? Wasn’t she still supposed to be on holiday? “But! This internship is one recommended by Master Tallum to his students at AIM. So _technically_ , if one were to do this internship, it would be starting school, right?”

Caelum closed his eyes in a silent prayer to every deity he knew, which was quite a lot when he also studied deeply Norse mythology. “Please Potter, tell me you told your family or anyone that you decided to come here?”

He hoped if Auror Potter found them, he wouldn’t accuse him of working with the brat. He wasn’t some kind of an _accomplice_. He knew the brat, and she would have told _Black_ at least; Caelum nearly groaned, since when did his life depend on Black's willingness to keep his mouth shut?

“What about you?” asked Potter as she finished her fruit salad.

Right, whatever Potter had planned, doesn’t have anything to do. Perhaps not asking and not knowing would be for the best. “Master Whitaker strongly recommended this... _program._ Though, there was nothing to learn.” At least if it wasn’t for Potter, thank god the brat decided to flee to Central America. “Wait did you fly as a raven?”

Potter snorted, “Are you mad? I took a portkey.” His cheeks weren’t burning, it was the bonfire’s reflection on his porcelain-colored skin! “Ah, I see, he must have wanted to teach you teamwork.”

He was flabbergasted. “Teamwork?” Wait, Potter may be onto something. Now that he’d thought about it, Master Whitaker and he had approached the subject of working with other potioneer. Their community was _small,_ maybe Whitaker thought not unlike the brat.

“Yes, teamwork. If I’d known, I’d have let you work with someone else…” mussed Potter.

“No way, perish the thought!” protested, a little too loudly Caelum. He tried to imagine doing potions with the Lame-guy or the snotty one; his face paled, what a nightmare it would have been!

Potter’s joyous laugh echoed through the nights. “It’s not funny, brat!”

Of course, the curly-haired troublemaker only laughed more loudly, she blinked tears from her sparkling eyes. 

“Whatever Caelum, let’s make potions.” said Potter, as she pulled his hands, and flee the people starting to dance —without skills— around the bonfire.

The bonfire churned behind her, giving more life to her loose curls, the colorful lanterns were reflected in her green eyes, her face was flushed at the thought of making potions. And it was then he realized, in a camp near the rainforest in the middle of Central America, he may have a c—

His heart skipped a beat.

"Shit."

* * *

**—THE END**

**Author's Note:**

> Now please, I hope RBC let me go back to my life, or my other fictions.  
> Random fact 1: this story was inspired by the ost Above from Haikyuu  
> Random fact 2: the title has no link to the story


End file.
